


Did he?

by ficmewrong



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Awesome Sheriff Stilinski, Father-Son Relationship, First Date, Gen, M/M, POV Sheriff Stilinski, Sheriff Stilinski is a Good Parent, Sheriff Stilinski's Name is John, Stanny - Freeform, Stiles/Danny - Freeform, Stilinski Family Feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-11
Updated: 2014-12-11
Packaged: 2018-03-01 00:40:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2753177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ficmewrong/pseuds/ficmewrong
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles goes on his first ever date with Danny and his dad is maybe, kind of, a little protective.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Did he?

**Author's Note:**

> Credit to: technologykilledrealityxxxxx

It’s not every day that John Stilinski gets to come home early enough to actually have dinner with his kid.

It’s also not every day John Stilinski comes home to see his son hurrying down the stairs, eyes fixed on the ground as he pulls anxiously at his tie. His t _ie_. John Stilinski’s son does not wear _ties_.

Stiles freezes - not just pauses, but completely _freezes_ , John’s not even sure he’s breathing - on the second to last step when he catches sight of his father. Stiles says nothing though his mouth hangs open like he’s trying to.

“Going somewhere?” John asks casually, shrugging out of his coat and hanging it next to the door, eyes never leaving his son’s still stunned face.

“No, no!” Stiles says much too quickly for it to actually be the truth. Now that the silence has been broken, he’s all never-ending motion again, ringing his hands and shuffling his feet awkwardly. “I mean, yeah, I’m, uh, going…out. Going out. Yeah,” Stiles says in a rush and John has to try not to laugh.

“Going out,” John repeats, nodding his head. “Where to?”

“Does it matter?” Stiles asks rudely, but John knows there’s no venom behind the words, it’s merely nerves talking. Still, he gives Stiles his best _don’t-fuck-with-me_ look and crosses his arms, standing in what Stiles always refers to as his ‘sheriff pose.’ Stiles drops his gaze for a moment, hand coming up to rub nervously at the back of his neck. “I’m just going to go hang out for a while,” Stiles tells him, aiming for nonchalance. “I’ll be home by 11, I promise.”

“So you’re just _hanging out?_ ” John questions. “Nothing special?”

“Nope, nothing special happening here. Totally normal and…not…special,” Stiles responds, wincing slightly at his own jumble of words.

“Then what’s with the tie?”

“The what?” Stiles asks, looking down at himself as if he hadn’t realized he’d been wearing it. His cheeks flush pink immediately and he _knows_ he’s caught, John can see that, but far be it for his son to actually admit to something. “Oh, I, uh, just trying something new.”

He leans a shoulder against the wall and crosses his arms, aiming for casual but missing it by a mile with the tense set of shoulders and the way he won’t stop playing with his sleeves.

The doorbell rings and Stiles’s gaze shifts from his father to the door and back to his father, eyes comically wide. His glance slides back to the door and he makes a break for it, but his dad is faster and holds him off easily with one arm.

Danny is standing on the other side of the door when John opens it, just as dressed up as Stiles, and, really, it doesn’t take a genius to put two and two together here.

“Danny,” John addresses him curtly, still blocking Stiles from the door.

“Sheriff,” Danny responds, smiling brightly and extending his hand. The shake is firm and John just might like this kid.

“What a pleasant _surprise_ ,” John says, shooting a glare at Stiles over his shoulder.

Stiles ducks under his dad’s arm, getting between the two of them, and rushes out a “bye, dad!” while trying to bolt out the door.

John’s not letting him go that easily though, oh no. He grips Stiles’s shoulder tightly, keeping him in place. “Why don’t you come in, Danny?” John asks with a grin that might be a little obviously cruel.

  
Danny looks nervous for about half a second before an easy smile spreads across his face and he takes a step forward. “I’d love to.”  
Yeah, John likes this kid.

  
|-|

  
The three of them sit in the living room for twenty or so minutes - well, Danny and John sit while Stiles stands between them, alternating between biting nervously at his thumb nail and glaring at his father.

  
They’ve covered just about every topic now, from classes to lacrosse to plans for the future. Stiles tries interrupting a dozen or so times but Danny just answers the questions patiently as if he’s got all the time in the world.

  
It’s when John brings up Danny’s past criminal record that Stiles finally loses it.

  
“Okay! We’re going! _Now!”_ he snaps, grabbing Danny’s arm and pulling him off the couch and towards the door.

  
Danny looks back at him and flashes him a knowing look, still smiling as he follows behind after Stiles practically runs out the door.

  
“Ten o’clock,” John yells at his son’s retreating back.

  
He gives them all of eight minutes before he’s climbing into his cruiser.

  
|-|

  
John pulls into the parking lot of the classiest restaurant in town, the only one you’d really need to bother wearing a tie to. He scopes out the rows of cars until he spots Danny’s, throws the car into park, kills the ignition, and pauses. Going in probably isn’t the greatest idea and he knows it. Crashing his kid’s date wasn’t exactly a smart move.

  
But this was his _kid._

  
And while it’s true that Stiles is growing up - much quicker than John would like - and he knows Danny’s a good kid, he just can’t help himself. Call it a side effect of the career he’s chosen, but he can’t trust that anyone’s really _good_.

  
At least not when it comes to his son.

  
He’d be fast, try not to be seen, and if he got caught, well, Stiles brought this on himself for not telling his dad in the first place.

  
With that thought in mind, he hops out of the driver’s seat and heads inside.

  
He sits at the bar, asking another man to switch him seats so he can catch sight of his kid’s table. He orders a coke while he spies on - _observes_ \- the two of them.

  
And Stiles is being, well… _Stiles_. His laugh is loud enough that John can hear him from his vantage point, and his arms are all over the damn place. It’s really not a surprise when Stiles’s hand ends up catching the edge of the cup the waitress had just set down on the table, glass toppling and water going absolutely everywhere as half the restaurant turns to stare at him.

  
John can only see the back of Stiles’s head, but he just _knows_ that Stiles is flushing a bright red as he grabs napkins and tries haphazardly to start cleaning up the mess. He’s not doing a very good job and John is on his feet before he realizes what he’s doing, ready to swoop in and save his kid from his embarrassment.  
But then Danny’s laughing, a grin breaking on his face, as he reaches across the table and grabs Stiles’s frantic hands.

  
John drops a ten onto the bar next to his unfinished coke and leaves the two alone.

  
|-|

  
John waits up for Stiles, sitting at the kitchen table, idly swirling his still full glass of jack.

  
Stiles comes home grinning just 3 minutes shy of ten o’clock.

  
“Did you have a good time?” John calls out, enjoying more than he should the way Stiles jumps a foot in the air.

  
“God, _dad!”_ Stiles yells. “You scared the hell out of me!”

  
“Well, you would have seen me sitting here if you weren’t mooning over your phone,” John tells him smirking.

  
Stiles scowls, or attempts to, but it doesn’t quite work what with the way he can’t stop smiling.

  
“Soooo” John drawls, prompting Stiles to answer him. Stiles stares at him blankly, his mind not able to focus on something that wasn’t _Danny_. John rolls his eyes affectionately before repeating, “did you have a good time?”

  
“Yeah, I…yeah,” Stiles says, ducking his head slightly to hide his grin.

  
“Sit down,” John instructs, nodding towards the chair across from him.

  
Stiles does, and they set in silence for a moment until Stiles starts to get nervous and blurts out, “I wasn’t late,” as if he’d been accused.

  
John raises an eyebrow and responds, “I know you weren’t.”

  
Stiles frowns at him, starts to ask, “Then why am I - ”

  
“Why didn’t you tell me?” John questions, watching the way Stiles slumps in his seat and stares at the table. He shrugs his shoulders slightly and now John’s the one frowning. “Why didn’t you feel like you could tell me?”

  
Stiles must hear the hurt in his voice because he sits up straighter, staring wide-eyed at his dad. “I - ”

  
“Is it because he’s a boy?” John interjects. Stiles looks down at that and John reaches across the table to grab his hand. “God, Stiles, I don’t _care_ if you like boys. You could have told me, son,” John says earnestly, squeezing Stiles’s hand.

  
“Thank you,” Stiles responds sincerely, squeezing his dad’s hand back and offering him a small smile. Stiles glances down at his phone again, laughing to himself as he texts out a reply, before standing up and offering his dad a, “good night.”

  
“Not so fast,” John chides, laughing at Stiles’s responding groan. Stiles sits back down with a huff, but they both know it’s just for show. “Tell me about it.”

  
“ _Daaaad,_ ” Stiles whines, the same way he has since he was a toddler.

  
“Hey, now, it’s my right as a father to hear all about my son’s first date!” John asserts, before adding, “This was your first date, right?”

  
“Yes, dad” Stiles answers with a put upon roll of his eyes.

  
“Good,” John tell him, nodding. “So, did he ask you?”

  
Stiles’s blush is visible even in the dim kitchen light and his dad has to hold back a laugh.

“Yes,” Stiles mumbles, but, god, he can’t stop smiling.

  
“Details,” John demands softly.

  
_“Dad.”_

  
_“Stiles.”_

  
“Fine,” Stiles says as if he’s really being forced here. “He asked if I like Italian food, told me he had a table for two reserved, so we had dinner at Marea.”  
“Sounds romantic,” John comments, smiling as Stiles nods in agreement. “Fancy place. Did he pay?”

  
“Yeah, he insisted, but I told him I’ll cover it next time. I don’t want to be that guy, you know?” Stiles tells him.

  
“Next time?” John asks, chuckling at the expression Stiles always gets on his face when he realizes he’s been caught with something. “Did he pull out your chair for you? Open the door?” John questions, half of him reveling in the way Stiles’s ears redden and the other half of him wanting to make sure Danny was a gentleman to his kid.

  
“Oh god,” Stiles groans in lieu of a response.

  
“So you’re seeing him again?”

  
“Yeah. Yeah, we’re….gonna do it again,” Stiles answers, bashful but barely able to contain his excitement.

  
“So, did he kiss you?”

  
 _“Dad!”_ Stiles squawks.

  
“Well?”

  
“…Maybe,” Stiles responds in what he probably thinks is a cryptic way, but he really couldn’t be more obvious.

  
He looks at his phone again and John suddenly remembers what it was like to be experiencing these feelings for the first time. The excitement, the nerves, the non-stop smiling. There’s a pang in his chest when he thinks of Claudia and it increases tenfold when Stiles looks up at him with those big brown eyes that are just like his mother’s. But this is a nice moment for his kid and he won’t steal that away so he tells Stiles he’s happy for him, for them, and returns Stiles’s grin.

  
“Goodnight, dad,” Stiles says once again as he stands up and John lets him go this time.

  
But Stiles stops next to his chair, wraps his long arms around his dad’s neck, and presses a kiss to his cheek before pulling away.

  
“Oh, and I know you were at the restaurant,” Stiles tells him, bounding up the stairs before John has the chance to wonder _how._


End file.
